


Stumbling

by lodessa



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Arguing, Body Image, Confessions, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Guilt, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Post-Endgame, Resentment, Sailing, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-05-29 20:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6391705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodessa/pseuds/lodessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After months of silence following a massive argument upon their return to Earth, Chakotay seeks Kathryn out to make things right, but that may be easier said than done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to the prompt: 
> 
>  
> 
> _you’re black-out drunk and yes we had a really messy break up and you’d rather cut your arm of than have me take care of you, but I hate seeing you this miserable. at least let me hold your hair back while you puke_
> 
>  
> 
> I took some liberties.

She definitely should not have had that last glass of champagne (or the one before it… and she might as well face it the one before that either). _Honestly Kathryn, you’ve been drinking longer than some of those bright eyed ensigns have been alive. You should know better._

Of course she did know better; she just hadn’t listened to her better judgement, and now she was trying to find some darkened corner of the garden (preferably behind some covering plants) in which to wait out the way the world currently was insisting on spinning every time her eyes flickered closed for a moment. 

It wasn’t a mystery what had spurred her to chug successive flutes of alcohol without regard for common sense at tonight’s gala.

Why was he here?

She’d spotted him before he turned around, the slope of his shoulders and the specific way his hair curled around the back of his ear. Chakotay. 

There was a time when the sight of him would have been a relief, made her feel warm and safe inside. No more.

It had been almost six months since they’d been in the same room (four months, three weeks, and about seventeen hundred hours to be more specific) and she had no idea why he would have decided to show up tonight, at a fete honoring her first major piece of achievement as an admiral.

_You really are that manipulative, aren’t you?_

_And here I thought you were a man of your word._

She had no idea how many times that last conversation had repeated, ringing, in her head.

So she’d panicked. She’d panicked and drank way too many glasses of bubbly on an empty stomach and now here she was hiding outside a party in her honor and that stomach was more bubbling than empty.

She paused her progress to lean against a tree trunk, trying to regain her balance as one of the heels of her boots sunk into the ground.

“Kathryn?”

Oh. Universe. No.

She’d know that voice anywhere.

“What are you doing here?” 

Her dramatic whirl around to face him was undermined as she accidentally flung herself forward and suddenly his strong warm hands on her arms were stabilizing her. Damn those hands. Damn the false sense of security they always seemed to radiate.

“You’re drunk,” he observed.

“No shit,” she rolled her eyes, not trusting her coordination enough to try and pull away, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not like you.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought either,” she lashed out.

_I trusted you!_

_No. You never did. Not really._

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “But I do know that you need help getting out of here with your sterling reputation intact, unless you don’t care about that anymore either.”

“I don’t. Need. Anything. From you.”

“Kathryn…”

The soft way he said her name, so familiar, strung bitterly. Why was he here? How could he act like things were normal between them suddenly?

“Don’t say my name like that,” she hissed, stepping back away from him and immediately regretting it as the world and her stomach lurched.

“Look, I know the last time we talked… Well right now obviously isn’t the moment to talk about it, but you need someone’s help right now. So are you going to let me assist you, or is there someone else I should be finding to fulfil that function, Admiral.”

“You know damned well there isn’t,” she huffed, before immediately regretting the outtake of air as she felt the bile rising up in her esophagus. 

And there it was.

She was vaguely aware of the warmth of Chakotay’s hand against her lower back as she regurgitated a handful of canapes and enough champagne to get three women twice her size, and the way he gently had pulled back the loose tendrils which had escaped the updo her hair wasn’t quite long enough again for.

“Better?”

“Shut up.”

“Look, if you want to stand here and call me names for a while, do you mind if we find somewhere more comfortable to do it? Maybe a bench?”

His attempted humor only made the pit of despair inside of her chest expand and press against her heart and ribcage. How dare he laugh at her (justified) anger?

“You don’t have to stay,” she replied, walking (very gingerly) further into the foliage.

“Are you saying that because you think I don’t want to be here or because you don’t want me to be?”

“Both,” she choked, finding another tree to lean again and then giving up and just slumping down into the grass, dress uniform be damned.

“I’m sorry about the way things ended,” he knelt down in front of her, using the edge of his sleeve to wipe the remnants of vomit from the corner of her mouth.

“Why?” she shook her head, “You waited patiently for years without anything resembling a promise and then the moment you gave up and moved on I threw a temper tantrum and called you all kinds of ugly things.”

This really wasn’t the place or time to have this conversation (if such a thing existed) but the words slurred out anyway.

“As I recall I said some pretty awful things as well,” Chakotay sighed, looking down at the ground, “And a lot of what you said was true.”

“Why did you come tonight? Really?”

“Because I’m sorry. Because I miss you.”

She swallowed, tasting bile, as she pushed back the tears of frustration that wanted to escape.

“What does that even mean?” 

She wanted to shake her head but the world was unsteady enough as it was.

“Being your friend, meant more to me than any form of intimacy I could have with anyone else, let alone someone half my age who I barely had more than tolerance for.”

“You had every right.”

They shouldn’t be having this conversation. Not here. Not now. Not like this. Every self loathing thought she’d had since that night was swirling in her spinning head, telling her that no one could hate her as much as she did herself, even him.

“I didn’t have a right to call you heartless, to question your integrity, to use everything I knew about you based on our friendship to hit you where I knew it would hurt most.”

She didn’t care anymore, too blitzed and exhausted to keep her mouth shut. The adrenaline of panic which had sent her out here had abandoned her, leaving her feeling shaky and vulnerable.

“You did hurt me,” she found herself admitting, “But I hurt you too, didn’t I?”

“That’s no excuse.”

“Hold on a moment…” she hated having to say, as she twisted away to finish emptying the contents of her stomach.

“Maybe we should table this conversation for the moment and work on getting you home,” he said so casually, like they’d been in the middle of discussing away team assignments or who was going to get stuck on the Delta shift this week back on Voyager.

“And you think you are coming with me?” she objected, feeling that earlier panic of his closeness through the haze of intoxication.

“At least until we get you a hypo strong enough to ensure that Starfleet’s latest hotshot young admiral isn’t found having drowned in a pool of her own vomit.”

“I’m not young,” she objected.

 _Not young at all._ Since returning back to Earth she’d felt old suddenly, worn out, sharp and bitter and joyless.

“Is this your midlife crisis then? Binge drinking in the middle of official functions.”

“At least it only hurts me!” She insisted. 

_Not like yours. You hurt me and you hurt Seven._ she added mentally without speaking it aloud. It wasn’t fair of her. 

“Besides,” she added, “It’s your fault for showing up.”

“Next time, I’ll try to remember not to be the first one to apologize,” he snapped, tight lipped as when they’d first struggled to work together.

“Did you have to show up somewhere so… high profile?” she sighed in exasperation.

“You would have just ignored my comm messages and showing up at your apartment seemed invasive,” he shrugged, reaching out a hand to her as they skirted the edge of the garden back towards the entrance.

“Probably,” she admitted, “So what’s your escape plan?”

“I don’t think you are going to like it.”

“Oh?” 

She tried to quirk her eyebrow up but in her current state wasn’t sure it had worked.

“Here, take off your rank bar and then take half my pips.”

She fumbled with the pin and he reached to relieve her of the responsibility, before carefully unpinning her hair.

“No admiral to be seen here, right?” 

He grinned and it was hard not to join him, no matter how angry she still was and how terrible she felt.

“The holocams will still recognize my face,” she pointed out.

“Therein lies the hard part,” Chakotay replied, “Pretending like you want to kiss rather than strangle me.”

Two drunken lieutenants leaving early for a rendezvous. That was something no one would care about. It wasn’t a bad plan she had to admit through the fog of emotional and intoxication in her brain. 

“I’d better switch sides so I can cover your tattoo,” she managed to strategize.

The scent of him near her, and the way his arm felt around her, and the feeling of his skin against hers as she nuzzled her face against his cheek while they walked past the guards at the gate. She had to remind herself that it was pretense, that she was angry with him, and that she was drunk as a skunk and must smell revolting.

“I think it worked,” Chakotay commented, as they emerged on the other side of the transporter station.

“Don’t think this makes everything okay, or even remotely back to normal,” she warned, pulling away from him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. What was it? Twelve labors that Hercules had to complete?”

“Hercules got off light,” she told him, the relief of being near him and the clarity of remembering how and why she was so angry with him warring in her.

True to his word, Chakotay stayed to set the hypospray and watched her inject it.

As the hypo took effect and everything regained it’s sharp crisp edges, she half expected for him to vanish into thin air: a drunken hallucination.

He didn’t though, and with her clearer eyes she could see how tired he looked, drawn with dark circles under his eyes as she knew she had. For a moment they stood there staring at each other and she wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well… color me embarrassed,” she finally said.

“Did you really drink because of me?” 

He swallowed, and Kathryn couldn’t help watching the movement of this throat.

“I didn’t expect you to show up… not after how things went down.”

She was too tired to tell him to leave, that it wasn’t his business, to lie.

“I’ll admit I was angry and it took me longer than I should have to sort it out because of that.”

“Sort what out?” 

“That I’d just thrown away the only thing worth a damn in my life.”

“As I recall… I was the one doing the throwing.”

“I just hoped… that maybe I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like where we ended things… that we ended them.”

That adorable ear tug of his. It made her want to smack him and embrace him all at once and she was pretty sure he knew it.

“I don’t know, Chakotay. When I think about how things happened… that anger is still there.”

Her head was throbbing and so was her heart. She hurt in every sense of the word.

He nodded slowly, looking down at the floor.

“But…” she added, “Then I think about it staying that way… Us never talking again. That feels a whole lot worse.”

“Kathryn…”

This time she didn’t tell him not to say her name with such tender hope.

“I don’t know if I can ever trust you, the way I did before.”

That was the truth. Kathryn had never been one to give up a grudge.

“One step at a time then,” he sighed, “Can I come by tomorrow with breakfast? Maybe we should talk about this after you’ve gotten a chance to sleep.”

She nodded, a small part of her disappointed he was leaving, that he wasn’t going to push, wasn’t going to throw his arms around her and force her to relent and take him back into her heart. At the same time she knew that if he did that would mean he really wasn’t the man she’d once thought: breakfast would have to do.

“Don’t forget the coffee,” she chuckled instead, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder like she’d done so many times before.

When the door closed behind him, at least half of the pain was the sound it made.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A follow up was demanded. So here it is: Janeway and Chakotay's breakfast the next day.

Waking up face down in a puddle of her own drool, Kathryn tried to remember the events of the night before, but dismissed her recollections: Chakotay, the feeling of him pulling her hair out of her face, throwing up under a tree in the garden, I missed you.  

Intoxicated dreams from the idiotic part of her that refused to let go. That must be it.

_ I’m never drinking again _ , she promised herself, knowing it was a lie even as she thought it.

Rolling over to the edge of her bed and pushing herself up into a sitting position, she was relieved that her stomach seemed to accept the shift.

_ First things first, Kathryn, you need to brush your teeth.  _  Her mouth tasted revolting and her throat was on fire.

She was about to stand when she caught sight of her discarded dress uniform jacket on the floor.  Two pips... no admiral bar.

But that meant…

A memory of Chakotay exchanging the ranks, the smell of his skin as they’d huddled together.

Not a dream then.

At least that part. It was still possible she’d imagined other segments of the night.  Had they really agreed to see each other this morning?

She reached for her computer on the nightstand. Sure enough, there was a message from Chakotay that simply stated eleven hundred hours.

_ He thinks if he asks I will take the opportunity to tell him not to come _ , she surmised. She almost did it anyway.

The chronitron read nine thirty so at least she had time for a shower.

She tried to put together her fragmented memories from the night before as she scrubbed herself clean of its grime.

She should send him a message telling him not to come. Chances were that they would end up screaming at each other again… or rather she would end up barking hurtful spiteful things and he would be taciturn and soft spoken but cutting.

Last night she’d been a mess of a different sort and Chakotay had doubtless felt sorry for her. (That was like him, she’d always thought he would have made an excellent healer of some sort: doctor, counselor, or otherwise, but then again, maybe that need to comfort would be too much a liability in someone who had to keep professional distance.)

Today, well today she didn’t know what to expect.  She did recall that he’d as much as told her he’d come to the party last night looking for her.

Was that what she wanted? Him to make amends? 

_ I’m the party more at fault,  _ a voice inside her whispered.

She’d been starting to make peace with the way things were, with the gaping absence of him to her left and just behind her.  Now, seeing him, thinking about him, anticipating him, it was sending her back into the spiral of emotional conflict she’d been fighting when they first returned.

Of course, when she’d heard he and Seven had ended things part of her had expected him to come to her, even though she’d told him not to, told him she wouldn’t want to see him.

_ Why not come then but now? _

She intentionally didn’t get into a uniform.  Whatever today held, it was personal. At least, now, she could be honest about that. Soft flowing pants and a wrap tunic in Earth tones weren’t an invitation or a defense. This was her home (even if she still woke expecting to be back on Voyager half the time). She didn’t have to prove anything.

True to his word, Chakotay arrived exactly on time, the smell of fresh coffee wafting under the door before he knocked

He was also out of uniform, a rust colored shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. It occurred to her that he looked thin.

“What’s the magic word?” she managed to say lightly.

“I brought coffee,” he replied with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, like the ritual response was missing something for him as well.

“Well then, come on in,” she stepped out of the way of the door to let him walk past her.

The business of pouring coffee took a moment, and he busied himself arranging the rest of the breakfast supplies as she took those first few much needed sips (not that she hadn’t replicated two cups before his arrival, but the ritual was steadying and it saved her from having to think of what to say next).  

Part of her resented how he was making himself at home in her kitchen, like everything had gone according to her expectations when they got back to Earth, real dates and late nights, that and this was something they did: him making breakfast in her kitchen and her standing around watching where the grey had grown in along his hairline.

Instinctively, she touched her temples: surely she hadn’t forgotten to get her roots touched up before last night’s gala.

“Asparagus, bell pepper, and goat cheese frittata,” Chakotay answered in response to a question about what was for breakfast which she hadn’t asked, “With actual asparagus and bell peppers and cheese from real goats and eggs from actual chickens.”

“And no leeola whatsoever?” She couldn’t help smiling, cupping her coffee mug in her hands and inhaling the aroma.

“Don’t tell me you are starting to miss Neelix’s cooking?” He joked back, but their banter felt brittle, hollow even.

She took another sip of her coffee and a thought occurred to her.

“Chakotay?” she ventured, “Where’s the coffee from?”

“I might have taken an early morning jaunt inland,” he looked pleased to tell her.

“You went to Sacramento for coffee?” 

Yes she definitely tasted it now.  When had she told him about that spot, how Justin had taken her there on their third date, how the particular roast was like stepping back into a more innocent time? 

“I just thought…” he looked down, busying himself with chopping vegetables, “Well you seemed so joyful at the memory of it.

“It’s very thoughtful,” she assured him; because, it was, “I guess I’m just out of the habit of having someone do that kind of thing.”

The look of guilt on his face was unmistakable, and part of her thought it served him right.  He’d abandoned her, hadn’t he? 

That wasn’t fair, of course. She’d told him to vanish. He wasn’t supposed to though, not really. He was supposed to protest. He was supposed to quietly keep being at her side.  He was never supposed to have hurt her enough to tell him to leave in the first place. 

The anger wasn’t something she could turn off overnight just because he showed up with an apology and held her hair back while she embarrassed herself and remembered a passing comment about an coffee shop she’d probably made to him five years ago.

There was a tension, but it was more a tension between the part of her that found comfort in him and the part that found the opposite than anything else.  There were years and years of the memory of comfort here, and yet of late he’d been nothing but a source of pain and humiliation to her.

“Why now?” she finally asked, after an extended silence of watching him beat the ingredients together and pour them into the pan, “I mean… it’s been months.”

“So it wouldn’t be years,” he suggested, but she wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“You’ve always been a strategist, Chakotay,” she countered, “I’m sure there was a reason for your specific choice.”

“Fine. I thought success would have put you in a good mood and you’d be more… receptive. You always used to relax at those type of things, back on Voyager.”

_ Back on Voyager, I had you to relax with,  _ she refused to say aloud,  _ Or at least I thought I did. _

“And you figured I wouldn’t make a scene in public,” she commented instead.

“That too,” he conceded, pulling out plates and dishing up the food before continuing, “I guess I had that one figured wrong.”

“I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

“Maybe not,” he sighed, carrying the dishes to the table, “I never saw you as a coward.”

“Coward!” she objected.

“What else do you call trying to hide in champagne bubbles and when that failed, hightailing it into the shadows physically?”

“So you’re talking about last night…” she questioned, knowing better.

“Maybe not only last night,” he conceded, before about facing with an accusation “Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want me dating Seven to begin with?”

“I shouldn’t have had to tell you!” she blurted, the feeling springing from her without intention.

“Oh?” His shoulders squared defensively, “Was I supposed to have picked up mind reading somewhere along the way?”

“You should have had some common sense. You should have taken a split second to consider my feelings!” she snapped, “How would you have felt if I’d started swanning around with some boy genius half your age?”

“You did!” He retorted, “More than once.”

“Like you didn’t sulk.”

He had pouted quietly, stiffening, glowering, but he never said anything… not directly. 

“Yeah, it bothered the hell out of me, but you didn’t give me a damned choice but to watch it anyway, knowing you had all those damned… parameters with me and none with them!”

She knew he was right about her actions.  She’d been well aware she was hurting him… but then didn’t it stand to reason he’d known too. He’d known and he’d done it anyway!

“So what… you decided to get me back?”

The question had been plaguing her. Sure, Seven was physically attractive but Chakotay had never cared much for her. Why Seven? Why Seven unless the point had been specifically to lash out at her?

“It was never about that! Sure, maybe I was weak enough to want to feel desired for once, like I was something other than sitting on the shelf collecting dust for the day when maybe, just maybe, you might have a use for me other than the knowledge that I was part of your damned collection… but it was never about hurting you. Hell, for all I knew you might have been relieved.”

“Don’t you dare…” she almost growled, reacting to the last statement rather than the ring of truth in the rest of his words, “You know that is a lie, Chakotay. I might not have been as forthcoming as you in talking about it you knew how important you were to me! how much I…”

“How much you what, Kathryn? We aren’t in the Delta Quadrant now so why don’t you just give me an answer for once. Or is it easier to keep hiding behind evasions, letting me think whatever I want to if it will keep me your loyal dog?”

“Some loyalty!  I trusted you, Chakotay. I counted on you. And you, you trampled all over my heart.”

That was what hurt the most, not that he’d been with someone else, but that she’d been fooled by him, tricked into believing all his promises of always and implied devotion.

“I would have to have had it in the first place to do that, and even now that’s not something you’ve ever offered or admitted.”

So that was how it was going to be.  He wanted her to say it, to admit that she’d loved him, that his betrayal crushed her because she had.  

“Damn you, Chakotay,” slipped out aloud, and she just let the rest follow, “I loved you and you knew it, don’t play dumb with me!”

“I never knew, not really. For all I knew it was wishful thinking,” he sounded a little dazed, like he hadn’t really expected her to say it.

Still, she couldn’t stop.  He had known, in her heart she knew he’d been able to read her perfectly well, well enough to see the truth in her eyes.

“You knew it,” she insisted, “You knew it and you married Seven and left me alone!”

“Married her?!” Chakotay seemed genuinely confused and Kathryn realized she’d never told him what the Admiral had revealed to her, too angry to talk to him honestly, “What the hell are you talking about, Kathryn?  I went out on a series of ill advised dates with her, but I never even went to bed with her let alone-”

“But you did,” she breathed, the pain of that knowledge tearing through her just as violently as it had the first time, “Not in this timeline, but the Admiral told me. In her timeline you married Seven of Nine.”

She tried to read his reaction as he sat there quietly, mouth open, processing what she’d just told him. There was a time when she would have believed she could accurately interpret the look on his face but now her guesses felt iffy at best.  

“Bullshit,” he was deadly quiet as he finally replied, “I’m sorry but that’s bullshit. You can’t hold something that some other version of me supposedly did against me.”

“Why not?  It was still you.”

_ If things had stayed the same, If I’d sat back and let you, said nothing as she must have,  I might be choking back tears as I officiated your wedding right now rather than doing the same as I sit here across my kitchen table from you. _

“I find that hard to believe, but let’s say you are right.  Are you now responsible for every alternate version of yourself? If some other version of you breaks the prime directive should you be court martialed?”

He was trying to appeal to her reason, but this wasn’t a wound that would be reasoned with.  She felt sick in the pit of her stomach, shaken, every time she thought about it, remembered the Admiral’s voice (her voice) curling cruelly around the words:  _ Her husband, Chakotay. _

Maybe she could have dismissed it, could have seen it as a development made out of choices they would never encounter, if she hadn’t turned around and realized it was happening right under her eyes.  A picnic. It would have been bad enough for him to be screwing her, but romance, intention… No.  She couldn’t stand membering.

“How could you? If you really loved me the way you made me believe you loved me, how could you?”

No. A person might be weak, crave a warm body in their bed, but everything else...

“How could you, Kathryn?” he shot back,  “How can you tell me you loved me then, when you never had any problem enjoying whatever passing novelty-”

“They were passing by, a novelty like you said,” she countered,  “She was part of our crew!”

The way her voice broke on those last words seemed to stall his response. Chakotay opened his mouth and then closed it, sighing, taking a moment before finally replying,  “It was a mistake, Kathryn.  It was a mistake and I wish with every fiber of my being I would unmake it, but short of somehow going back in time and preventing my past self from ever accepting that stupid date… I don’t know what you want me to do.”

The way he said it. The look in his eyes.  In spite of herself she believed him.

“Neither do I,” she sighed, the fight going out of her, “I don’t know what you can do.  I only know that I used to know, at my core, that you would always be there for me, always look at me like I was the center of your universe and now… I don’t know what to think.”

“Do you still want that?” 

He met her eyes, that soft domestic expression in his own.

“Want what?”

“The feeling that I love you, utterly and completely.”

He reached out across the table, laying his hands palms up towards her: open. She resisted the urge to accept the gesture to take his hands in her own.

“You said that in the present tense,” she hesitated instead

“That’s not an answer.”

It wasn’t an accusation this time, instead there was something soft and settled in his voice.

“I don’t want to be hurt again, Chakotay,” she confessed, standing and pacing away from him, “Wanting that from you… I now see what a risk it always was.”

“Kathryn,” he stood and walked over to join her, on her left in that familiar spot, “It’s always a risk when we let ourselves care about someone else.  I’ll answer your question first, though: Yes, I used the present tense.”

“Of course I want that back,” she turned to face him, “I just don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Why don’t let you let me worry about trying to win back your trust, okay?” He reached out as if to touch her cheek and stopped short, like he was catching himself, “You… just try to tell me, how you really feel, what you need from me to feel okay about us again. I can guess, but obviously I’m not as good at it as I thought.”

That, that was when she really started to cry. Not pretty, perfect, teardrops that glistened on one’s face. No. Big, ugly, gulping sobs that wracked her entire frame. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried like that.  It had been so long since she’d been able to afford that level of abandon.  

Chakotay reached his hands out to her and she took them, squeezing tightly.

“Oh Kathryn…” he murmured, glassy eyed, and she let herself fall into him, both of them shaking as she continued to cry and he joined her.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m sorry, office hours are ending in less than ten minutes and there just isn’t time to go over this before my next engagement.”

Kathryn watched the clear annoyance on the face of Chakotay’s latest teaching assistant: striking, shapely, with a mass of dark hair. Probably betazoid. 

Chakotay deftly maneuvered around her to pull his office door closed. Kathryn was still struck sometimes, by how nimble he could be when he wanted to, after all these years. It seemed to belie the solid feeling of his presence as well as his stature. 

“I’m sure the Admiral will understand you needed to help me with these, professor,” the young woman tried anyway (had Chakotay mentioned he was meeting her or was the girl actually betazoid and picking it up from his thoughts), putting her hand on Chakotay’s shoulder.

She recognized the gesture and, not for the first time, she wished for telekinetic abilities. 

_Mine._

Kathryn indulged in the response, despite that she hadn’t accepted more than the well trodden ground between them: coffee and long walks, friendly dinners, rounds of velocity and hoverball. 

It was petty and it was stupid, but she couldn’t seem to resist the urge anyway.

“The Admiral might or might not, but I would not,” Chakotay rebuffed the young woman a second time, carefully removing her hand from him, “We’ve talked about this Riaya. Did you go talk to your counselor about the boundary issues we discussed like you agreed to?”

Kathryn had to wonder just how many of these thinly veiled attempts Chakotay had contended with over the years. On Voyager, no one had dared make such a direct pass at him (well almost no one), at least in front of her, but she supposed it must have happened with some frequency when she wasn’t looking there as well as before they’d met.

_Be honest, Kathryn. If he’d been one of your professors at the academy: charming, good looking, warm, open… you’d have tried your damnedest too._

The girl looked a little deflated, despite Chakotay’s gentle but firm tone. 

“The adjustment can be hard, but not facing that you are struggling only makes things harder on yourself,” Chakotay added, before noticeably catching sight of Kathryn sitting on the bench at the end of the hallway. His expression shifted, something optimistic flitting across it as he finished, “Just because something is difficult, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth working towards.”

Kathryn knew those final words were for her as much as his teaching assistant, but she let the girl nod and reluctantly walk away before standing and walking towards Chakotay.

“What percentage of your students do you think harbor untoward thoughts and desires regarding you, Professor?” she teased.

“An irrelevant number,” he shrugged, “Though it is an awkward inconvenience. Riaya is a promising assistant. She’s just having a hard time here on Earth and clinging to any friendly face.”

“Especially if that face happens to be handsomely chiseled,” Kathryn rolled her eyes.

She appreciated that he hadn’t tried to deny that it was happening. Honesty. That was what they had tried to institute between them.

“I’m not tempted,” he paused, “If that’s what you are asking. That girl could be my daughter.”

 _So could Seven!_ she did not say. It was unfair of her and she knew it.

“If you are trying to remind me that you have options, Chakotay… Believe me I’m well aware.”

She pursed her lips and started towards the turbolift, trusting him to follow if not in everything else.

“I’m not and, as I am going to keep reminding you, those aren’t real options… not to me.”

Chakotay looked her right in the eyes, daring her to contradict him.

“What if things never change between us, Chakotay? What if I just can’t…” she stopped as the turbolift doors opened exposing them to the crowd on the ground floor of the anthropology building.

They walked in silence across the campus to the transporter station, waiting until they were alone to resume the conversation.

“If you can’t ever forgive me fully, Kathryn, I’ll just have to live with that,” Chakotay told her as they stepped onto the trailhead, “I’m not going to compound it or make it worse by using some young girl as a pawn.”

He meant it. She knew that. Chakotay wasn’t that kind of person. Even when she was at her most hurt and angry with him she could never have accused him of that kind of intentional cruelty. Not honestly.

“Not now,” she countered, “But what about in six months? A Year? Five Years? Ten?”

“Not while you live, Kathryn. I mean that. Never again.”

There was that feeling again, in her chest. That painful tug of comfort which scared her. 

“I wish you would make more realistic promises…” she sighed, “Ones it was easier to believe in.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in anything I said, anyway.”

“That’s an over exaggeration. It’s just hard to accept it at face value when you claim you couldn’t be with another woman so unilaterally.”

“I could,” he swallowed, “I could date someone else, sleep with her, go through all the daily motions. I wouldn’t though; because, it could never be fair to either of us; because, my heart wouldn’t be in it. I would still be in love with you. I’d still be thinking about you… still be comparing her to you.”

That was one big change in his behavior, from the way it had been before. It used to be that he’d imply his feelings for her, let her know without explicitly stating anything other than support, but now he was being very direct in professing his feelings.

“You did-”

“Damn it, Kathryn. I made a mistake and I am sorry. If you don’t want to see that then why do you even bother with these afternoons of ours?”

She didn’t exactly blame him for being frustrated. He was trying, being patient while she was honestly horrible. She didn’t know why she kept picking at him like this. Maybe she was just trying to test him, find the limits of his patience, see how much he would take.

It wasn’t a flattering view of herself, but Kathryn had to admit it was a possibility… likely even. Who had she become? How could anyone love the person she was now, especially someone who knew her… really knew her?

Why shouldn’t anyone turn away from her in the face of this ugly face of herself that seemed to have taken root? 

“I wish I could shut up this gnawing voice inside me, Chakotay. Believe me. I wish my heart would listen to my mind when I tell myself that I’m being ridiculous.”

“I know,” Chakotay sighed, “Kathryn, I’m sorry I hurt you and I know I can’t just undo that because I wish I hadn’t.”

“I wish you could,” she felt her rage dissipating, “I hope you know that I don’t want to be like this.”

“I know,” he confirmed, “We’ll just have to keep navigating it as best we can.”

She reached out, and he opened his hand to take hers. It was a beautiful day, and the comfort of their fingers entwined warmed her despite everything else. 

It was good to be home.

“Speaking of navigating…” she stopped, smiling with a hint of mischief, as they rounded a curve in the trail and the dock came into sight, dropping his hand and pushing his shoulder playfully instead, “Think you can handle this without a holodeck for safeties? I mean your shuttle record...”

He smiled back at her, ducking his head in that way of his, and she felt something else entirely.

“I’ll let you steer, if you are so worried about it.”

As he walked towards the boat, Chakotay pulled off his jacket, glancing back at her with a dimpled grin.

“Oh, how magnanimous of you.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling as she removed her boots.

“You should have seen the pilot for the shuttle I took back from the conference,” she told Chakotay as she took off her jacket as well, waiting for him to finish taking off his boots as well so that they could start rigging the sail, “I swear these ensigns get younger and younger every year.”

“So you trust some twenty two year old with a shuttlecraft, but me and a sailboat is cause for concern?”

“The sailboat doesn’t have any safeties built in,” she pointed out, only after the words had left her mouth realizing that they’d ventured into talking about more that modes of transportation again.

“Kathryn…” Chakotay finished the knot he was tying and then stepped back, “We don’t have to go sailing if it’s too much right now. We could stick to one of the hiking trails or-”

They weren’t talking about the boat.

“I want to go sailing,” Kathryn replied more emphatically than she’d intended to, “I’m tired of sticking to the shore.”

“Okay.” He tugged on that ear. “You decide how far you want to let the sail out, how much wind you want to take in.”

She knew that he meant it, that he was doing his best to follow her lead… as hard as that was when she kept doing abrupt about faces.

“You might regret that,” she nodded, gesturing for him to help her get the boat ready, “You know what a thrill seeker I can be.”

It always amazed Kathryn how, after a few minutes of anxiety about remembering everything, the muscle memory of sailing always seemed to come right back to her. The breeze was just right, easy to catch but not overpowering, and with her hand on the till she felt a sense of control that seemed more and more rare these days.

“Did the last two days of the conference go any better than the rest of the week?” Chakotay asked, choosing a safe topic.

She did have to admit that talking to him on Tuesday morning had helped her regain perspective after a trying weekend. She’d missed that, the soothing way he had of helping her ground and reenter.

“Not really,” she replied, pulling her turtleneck over her head so that she could enjoy the sunshine on her shoulders and neck, “I miss scientific conferences, where people seemed to care about something other than making themselves sound important.”

She caught him looking at her as she turned her head back in his direction, though he quickly averted his eyes. It distracted her though and she felt the tension in the sail tug suddenly, as her attention wandered. 

Quickly, she adjusted the line to compensate.

“How did your symposium go?” 

Chakotay’s question was thoughtful, and usually something she’d want to vent to him about, but suddenly Kathryn couldn’t stand the pretense of normalcy.

“That girl is a betazoid… so if she’s pursuing you there must be something she’s picking up!” she blurted.

“Really, Kathryn?” Chakotay, stood bubbling with frustration, “I have no idea what she thinks she’s accomplishing. Being able to read people’s minds doesn’t make betazoids infallible or immune to hopeless quests. Just ask your friend Will Riker about his soon to be mother in law!”

“You are attracted to her, aren’t you?” Kathryn couldn't help herself. 

She knew she was being illogical, but it welled up out of her anyway. Why now? It didn’t even make sense. Chakotay had done nothing more than be attentive, betray that he did still look at her as a woman, and here she was accusing him of lusting after a student.

“Tell me you are kidding me, Kathryn?” he shook his head in disbelief, “I know I should be glad that you are jealous; because, it means you do care, but this is ridiculous.”

“Why? Why is it so ridiculous to think you’d find a beautiful, smart ( I assume she’s smart because you don’t take assistants who aren’t at least on their way to brilliant), woman who obviously is making herself available-”

“What do you want me to do, Kathryn? Only mentor male students! Would that make you happy?”

“Don’t be silly…” 

Her grip on the rudder tightened, as she felt herself shake slightly.

“Then what?”

“Just admit it. Admit that you are attracted to her even if you aren’t going to act on it. Gorgeous, unspoilt… not bitter and worn-”

“Stop,” he moved to kneel in front of her, “Kathryn, I want you. I don’t want some naive young girl. I want you with all your sharp edges and hard points and spirits, I don’t know how to make you believe me but that’s the damned truth!”

So help her, it was almost impossible to keep her hand steady, not to give in to the temptation of him there before her. She wanted to, wanted to say _yes, I believe you_ and be enfolded in his warm arms and kiss those perfect lips that had been taunting her for almost a decade. If she hadn’t had to keep the boat on course she might have given in to the temptation.

She felt the tear run down her cheek and the warmth of his thumb as he reached out to brush it away.

She must have let the sail go slack without realizing it it, because suddenly the boom swung inwards and she managed to duck in time but Chakotay didn’t. Hitting his head sent him reeling to the side, unbalancing the boat. She could still see the shock on his face as the whole thing tipped over, and the next thing she knew she was hitting the water.

 _Chakotay!_ her mind screamed, as she struggled to reorient herself and find the surface. She couldn’t believe how careless she’d been, too distracted by her feelings to keep the boat upright. 

Resurfacing for air, Kathryn glad she’d stipped down to her tank top but still weighed down by her pants. She struggled to free herself of them as she searched around for Chakotay, heart beating wildly. Where was he? Had the blow knocked him unconscious?

She spotted him emerging finally on the other side of the capsized boat, and swam her way around to him. He definitely looked dazed, but calmed as he spotted her.

“Are you alright?” 

“Fine… just startled,” she assured him, coming into range to tread water beside him.

“I guess this is a you told me so, moment,” he smiled weekly.

“I’m the one who hit you in the head,” she shook hers, taking his hands under the water, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You aren’t going to get rid of me that easy, Janeway,” he teased, as a warmth of relief coursed through her.

“Let’s try and get out of the water,” she suggested, twisting her head to look at the boat.

The sail had gone underwater, and Kathryn was glad to have Chakotay’s help in trying to lift it back up with the additional weight.

Both of them tried to avert their gazes from one another, but Kathryn kept catching Chakotay sneaking glances as she did the same, unable to ignore the way that his clothes were clinging to him any more than he seemed to be able to ignore her bare legs or the way her’s were undoubtedly doing the same thing.

There would be no comm from Tuvok to interrupt the moment now. The only thing keeping her from acting on the moment, on the fact that it was not just the moment, was her own feelings. 

As she brought the boat back in, Kathryn shivered, partly from the wind on her wet skin, but also because she was divided. 

Damn him for making her feel this way, for making her trust him, love him, but then making her doubt.

The sun was low in the sky by the time they docked the boat.

“Here,” Chakotay offered, “You can tie my jacket around your waist.”

“I don’t-” she started to argue, before realizing that it probably was their best option, especially as the cold was really starting to set in and her teeth began to chatter.

The trudge back up to the transporter station felt longer than it had on the way down to the lake. They were both dripping wet, and attempts to banter felt forced.

“It’s not about your teaching assistant,” she finally found herself admitting to them both.

“I never thought it was,” Chakotay replied.

“There’s a whole galaxy out there full of bright blooming younger women, who are more than happy to fling themselves in your direction.”

“This is a new revelation to for you? What? You thought no one else would have me either?”

“No… it’s just. Why shouldn’t you take the opportunity? I’m demanding, have all this baggage… I’ve been nothing but trying to deal with of late.”

“Kathryn…” he paused, taking a good look at her face, “Is that really what you think? That I’d be… settling?”

“It’s the truth, Chakotay,” she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to manufacture some additional heat, “The woman I’ve become…”

“Is wise, and strong, and yes you’ve struggled and suffered, Kathryn, but so have I. I’ve only come to love you more after everything we’ve been through, love you enough to almost let you go, and if you don’t see what I love about you anymore then that’s just sad, Kathryn.”

“Pretty words, Chakotay,” she grimaced, “Pretty words out of your pretty mouth, but I am not so sure any of it is true. Are you sure you aren’t more in love with the idea of being in love with me than who I am now?”

“What would convince you?” he exhaled, “Please just tell me; because, everything I try just seems to make you more angry instead. If you don’t want words, what would satisfy you? What great deeds? What sacrifice?”

“I don’t know…” she shivered, the cold causing her to shake uncontrollably, “Believe me if I knew I wouldn’t be keeping it a secret from you, Chakotay. I want… oh I want to be comforted and reassured and if I had any idea how you could do that I would tell you.”

“I don’t mean to be impatient,” he apologized, “I just get so angry at myself for putting us in this position and for not knowing how to fix it.”

“Maybe just… stop trying so hard,” she sighed, “Let us regain some sort of natural rhythm.”

It was a stupid thing to say, she realized. After all, that natural rhythm has been rocking her right into his arms just today. She didn’t know what else to say instead, though.

He nodded in assent, as they arrived at the transporter station

“Maybe we should both transport back near my place,” Chakotay suggested, looking her up and down, before clarifying, “I’m just thinking it’s less centrally located and you could replicate a fresh set of clothes.”

He was right, of course; though, she hadn’t been to his apartment since they’d returned, studiously keeping their time together as public as possible, or at least on her home turf.

“I promise. I won’t try and overcome your resistance with my manly charm,” he teased, lightening the mood.

“I won’t promise to behave,” she teased back.

Chakotay’s living space was warm and bright, small accents of his heritage interwoven with warm wood tones and simple but comfortable furniture. It was exactly what she might have imagined. 

He immediately wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and replicated her coffee without asking. She wanted to object, but both moves were comforting and right, and she’d missed his silent caretaking so much. Besides, her teeth were chattering and her extremities felt like ice. 

“Let me get you something to wear,” he offered, though his own skin was covered in goosebumps from his wet clothes.

“Get into something dry yourself first,” she insisted, “I’ll be fine with my coffee for a few minutes.”

“I guess I’d better leave the two of you alone then,” Chakotay teased, before disappearing into his bedroom.

Kathryn wandered around as she cradled her coffee mug in her hands, looking at the spines of the books on the shelf, examining the pattern of the woven blanket over the back of the couch. In the corner, there was a box of what looked to be leather bound notebooks (knowing Chakotay it wasn’t actual leather) that caught her eye. 

Just as she was about to go investigate though, Chakotay reemerged, weathering a soft looking white sweater that flattered his complexion. He was barefoot, still toweling off his hair, and Kathryn’s insides twisted a little just looking at him.

“Your turn,” he offered, “Feel free to take a shower if you want.”

It was tempting. Chilled to her bones, Kathryn knew warm water would chase that away faster than anything else, but it was intimate in way that Kathryn wasn’t sure she could navigate right now. 

She shouldn’t have come, she thought, looking at his neatly made bed, soft and inviting, at a recent looking holocapture of his sister on top of the dresser, at a worn picture of his parents she recognized from his quarters back on Voyager. There was one of the senior staff from back before Kes left, everyone smiling. It was obvious to Kathryn looking at it that her belief that she’d been hiding their closeness and the way she leaned into him was completely false. 

She tore her eyes away from the photos and picked up the freshly replicated clothes Chakotay had left for her, carrying them into the bathroom and setting them on the counter. 

Getting rid of the wet clothes helped a lot, though her hair was still dripping cold water onto her. She leaned over the sink to try to twist some of the excess out, and couldn’t help examining herself in Chakotay’s mirror.

She didn’t often get dressed in front of one these days, always rushing from shower to some important meeting or another, her precious baths long neglected. Or maybe that was just an excuse to keep from really looking at herself in the mirror.

It wasn’t that she was not still an attractive enough woman: slim, long legged, face starting to show telltale lines but not to sag… though other parts of her were certainly falling victim to gravity. The dark circles were a constant though; she’d forgotten what her face looked like without them. Her breasts didn’t sit as high as they once had and the desk job was certainly starting to show as she carried a little extra around her middle. 

Not a disappointment, but certainly no competition for the likes of that betazoid girl or Seven.

 _Should I just be glad that he still wants me with all the other options in the quadrant?”_ Kathryn couldn’t help contemplating, though she couldn’t accept that conclusion. She didn’t need a man to complete her and she’d be damned if she was going to swallow her anger and just be grateful.

She shook her head and put on the heathered blue cowl necked sweater tunic and comfortable leggings, resisting her appreciation for the choices.

“Can I convince you to stay for dinner?” Chakotay asked, as she emerged to find a mouth watering aroma already emanating from the kitchen.

“That depends,” she bit her lip, considering whether it might not be more prudent to leave before the day went sideways again, “On whether you are going to give me any more coffee?”

“It’s no wonder you never sleep,” he replied, like he had a thousand times before, but he moved to get her more anyway, “Are you sure I can’t interest you in some wine instead? Or are you still avoiding it?”

Wine sounded nice. It would be easy to let Chakotay cook her dinner, kick her feet up on the coffee table, and let herself relax into the evening. That was the problem, though. A few glasses of wine and she could easily convince herself that it didn’t matter what had happened, that they deserved this. It had been hard enough to remember back on Voyager why it was a bad idea sometimes.

“Coffee will be fine, thanks,” she said instead of voicing those thoughts.

“Okay,” he handed her a full cup, taking away the empty one, gaze darting from her mouth to her eyes.

Janeway took a deep breath and tried not to think about the last year or the next one, but just to be in that moment, on that day. She’d asked Chakotay to try to behave in that way that once was normal, the least she could do was make the same good faith effort on her end.


	4. Chapter 4

Here’s the thing: She still wanted him. 

It was ironic, after all the years he had been diligently waiting and she had been able to stuff it down and put it aside some ninety something percent of the time. 

Now, now she was so angry with him, so distrustful, but it was like that pain had wrecked her self control. She couldn’t come back from the blunt honestly of her despair. When she’d been so secure in him it has been easy to set aside her desire.

Now. Now she felt raw, not just with the sting of his betrayal but also with her own longing.

Now he met her for long afternoon walks between her meetings and his office hours and she couldn’t take comfort in his arm linked with hers but she couldn’t ignore it either. His warmth beside her was a provocation, unsettling her.

He brought her a series of peace roses and part of her wanted to feel comforted by the gesture but there was something inside her that balked at any memory of how it used to be.

At the same time, she missed him, even as she pulled away she wanted him closer.

Maybe that would make it better, if she were to throw in the towel and pull him to her, to hell with the consequences. He had stopped looking away when she caught him staring, like he was making a point. Maybe she should just tell him not to say anything, to show her, not with gestures or consideration but with passion.

So eventually she broke. Chakotay was in his kitchen making sauce and he leaned in to taste it and she fell back into that old trap of looking at his lips.

She got off the counter where she’d been perched, set down her wine glass, and took the ladle from his hand.

“Kathryn?” he tugged his ear.

She kissed him then, melting against him and feeling his gasp against her lips.

The ache in her chest exploded, her hands were everywhere and his after softly surrounding her.

“What changed?” he murmured into her neck, warm and welcoming and so very gentle.

“I just… an tired of the ache of looking at you, wanting…”

“I was never sure… that you felt that way.”

“I did my best to ignore it, to hide it.”

“You had me doubting. I thought-”

“Not now,” she covered his lips with her finger.

“Shouldn’t we…” he started but he didn’t protest as she pressed her lips against his and then trailed them down his throat.

His touch stayed light but there was a tension to it, a hunger glaring from beneath the surface.

She realized she was trembling, needing to feel him more as she pressed closer against him.

“We’re really doing this?” He asked, voice shook.

“Don’t you want to?” she pulled back, suddenly unsure and exposed.

“Kathryn…” he groaned, “You have no idea.”

And then he was the one kissing her, the one pushing forward. The one who was touching just the right spots through her uniform.

 _He touched her like this._ The thought came unbidden.

She’d never been that kind of person, the kind who cared about past relationships but that was the problem: His relationship with Seven didn’t been like it was ‘before’... It felt like it was during. It was after that ancient legend, after the claims. It was after he was supposed to have been hers.

“What’s wrong?” he stopped, not pulling away but not continuing.

“I just thought about young hands having touched Seven like this, her body under your touch. Did you tell her-”

“Spirits, Kathryn. I’m not going to pretend I haven’t had my share of dalliances. But i’m not the one thinking about other women when I’m with you.”

“I have to know.” She did. “Was it good? Did you think she might be the last-”

“Look Kathryn, if you really want to know… My hands strayed above the waist, and when I thought about the idea that she might be the last person I’d kiss I felt sick; because, that meant admitting I’d never hold you in my arms.”

“Only the waist up?” 

She grabbed hold of his ass firmly and her nodded.

“You’re not lying to make me feel better? You didn’t screw her and tell her it was the best?”

She had to know. She hated to admit it, to recognize this ugly part of herself, but Kathryn couldn’t ignore what happened, couldn’t pretend like she didn’t remember. 

“I’ve never stayed away from ugly truths, Kathryn. For all my failings I have never lied to you. If it had gone further I’d admit it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Her hands moved over his body, mapping the previously forbidden territory possessively.

“I told myself I was taking it slow because she was inexperienced… but I think the truth was that I wanted to be stopped.”

So much was implied in that statement. She could have just accepted it for what she wants it to mean. Except, some part of her refused.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t really want to be with her. I wanted to be with you even though defensiveness made me insist all kinds of absurd alternatives. The temptation of not being alone was great enough to make a prime fool out of me, Kathryn, but on some level I knew I was being an idiot.”

“So when you kissed her…” she wanted to stop but she couldn’t, not yet at least.

“Yes, I thought about you,” he admitted, “In the whole time I’ve known you, there hasn’t been a time where you weren’t on my mind when I tried to think of someone else.”

“But you still did it,” she insisted, but she couldn’t feel her indignation fading, feel herself falling back under the spell of his promises and the heat in his gaze.

“I never said I was perfect, Kathryn. It was low and petty of me, but you can’t pretend you have never been spiteful yourself.”

“I don’t want to be spiteful,” she conceded, “I don’t want to be angry and suspicious, haunted by what may or may not have been.”

“What do you want then?” he demanded, “I’m trying my damned best but I can’t seen to figure it out.”

“I want to forget all that,” she broke, “I want to lose all that at least for a little while. I want being with you to drive all of that from my mind until I can’t remember any of the bad things in the face of it.”

It was consuming her, the fire of her longing threatening to overtake her completely, and in that moment there is nothing she wanted more than to let it. She couldn’t do it without him, though. She couldn’t let go alone.

“Kathryn…” he groaned, moving his lips to her neck and his hands to her hips, “You’re sure?”

“Show me you want this, Chakotay. Show me you want me.”

She raked her nails down his back through his uniform, an expression of the tension bubbling within her. Another time his hesitation would have been romantic but not this one, not after all the uncertainty and hurt.

“Take me to bed,” she demanded.

That must have been the thing he’d been waiting for, as he picked her up as soon as she said it, lifting her off the ground and carrying her out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom. She knew he was strong, had known it all along, but there was just something about having it demonstrated, about knowing he could have done this all along.

He set her down, sitting at the edge of the bed as he knelt before her, meeting her eyes as he moved to slowly unzip her jacket, never once letting his eyes leave hers. She leaned down and kissed him, shucking the jacket over her shoulders and off as she slid down onto his lap on the floor.

His hands crept up beneath her undershirt, warm and strong and at the same time a tease.

She yanked his jacket zipper down with less patience, grabbing a fistfull of his undershirt as she settled herself more firmly in his lap.

His hands moved to her hair, gently moving it out of her face as he pressed kisses to her jawline and up towards her temple. His lips. Oh, his lips felt every bit as good as they have looked all these years and she couldn’t help thinking about how they would feel everywhere, good enough (perhaps) to not care about anything else.

She pulled back enough to pull her undershirt up over her head, relieved when he took the bait, hands and mouth rushing to the freshly exposed skin, kissing and caressing and sending bolts of sensation from each spot he made contact with to her core.

He lifted her up again, laying her back onto his bed as he hovered over her, hands working her pants open as he kissed her stomach and rubbed her breasts through her bra, eyes locked on hers with an intensity burning in them that was too intense to disregard.

She did not look away. 

She arched her body up into his touch, lifting her hips to help him disrobe her. 

His hands ran over the bare skin of her legs, mouth kissing above the edge of her underwear. His tongue traced along one of her hip bones as his thumbs did her inner thighs, still he held her gaze.

Propping herself up a little on her elbows, Kathryn reached back to unhook her bra, watching carefully the way his eyes smoldered and his mouth opened just a fraction more as it fell from her, leaving her breasts unrestrained and exposed. Her body believed his response, believed he desired and was not disappointed in what he saw. She could feel more arousal seeping into the fabric between her legs at it. 

Still she wavered, “I know they aren’t as-”

 _As perky, as large, as full and firm._

“Don’t,” he replied to her unspoken words, shifting to move up her body and claiming her lips as his hands moved to cup and caress her breasts. She sighed, a sound that turned into a groan as his lips moved downward, peppering her skin with kisses as he shifted more focusedly to pay all his attention to her breasts.

Kathryn could feel the bulge against her leg through his uniform, realized how he was mostly still dressed while she was almost naked. She meant to protest but his tongue was urging her to make sounds rather than words and she moved both her hands into his hair instead and arched up into the contact.

She pushed aside the images of Seven in her place that threaten to destroy the moment, writhing under Chakotay’s lips.

“I want you,” he paused to reiterate, hands massaging her breasts with skill and intention, “Kathryn. I always want you.”

One of his hands moved down her body, fingers sliding into her underwear and finding their mark.

“Chakotay…” she moaned, “I have wanted this for so long.”

She had and now it was finally happening and she knew on so many levels that it had been her choice to make them both wait all that time, but somehow it felt like the moment where she had thought she lost him restarted time somehow and all those years were somehow separate.

“We’re here now,” he replied, fingers shifting from feathery brushes against her to press one inside of her, “Finally.”

She spread her thighs wider, fingers digging into his scalp as he crooked his and sucked on one of her nipples. 

“Tell me,” she rasped, “How you imagined this going. What you fantasized-”

“I’ve imagined us every way,” he groaned, another finger finding its way inside of her, “There’s not a single way of pleasuring you I haven’t visualized in great detail.”

She rocked around his fingers, moaning with every pump of them.

“And if I want to be the one controlling the pleasure?”

“Tell me,” he responded with over eager rapidness.

“Strip,” she demanded, “All the way.”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment and neither did his erection springing free and upwards, without any further encouragement.

“Now,” she watched him stand, waiting, at the foot of the bed, “Let’s see how quickly you can follow through on that promise.”

He practically drove into her lap. 

It felt so good. Really. So good. The kind of good where maybe it had never been this good before. The kind of good where it was like: just don’t stop.

She was not sure whether it was skill or aptitude or just how long she’d been waiting. It might even have had to do the fact that the were still holding each other’s gaze, somehow. Usually she’d have her head back and eyes closed to shut out distractions from the gradual build, but instead she was still meeting his eyes which seem locked on hers.

He had his fingers back inside of her as his tongue continued to caress her clit and with every curl of them pressing in just that right spot she felt her legs shaking and she wasn’t sure whether this was going to be the quickest peak ever or she should consider it the slowest after all the years of build up.

Either way, she came.

“Want to see if you can improve that time, Mister?” she breathed, as they grinned at each other, and he dipped his head to resume where he left off but instead she reached out for him and guided him upward.

Kathryn shivered as Chakotay’s warm body covered hers. Her hands moved over his skin, enjoying the sensation as she tasted herself on his mouth, running her fingers over his shoulders, cupping his backside, caressing his thighs, reaching around to trace the length of his erection.

“Tell me you’re ready,” she asked, thumb circling the tip, “That you want this.”

Everywhere their bodies made contact felt so good, from the way his chest rubbed against her breasts teasing her hardened nipples to the feeling of his hips between hers. She needed him closer.

“Always,” he promised, and it felt so earnest that in that moment it was impossible to doubt.

As the width of him pressed her open, she let her legs fall further apart, nails raking down his back as she bucked up towards him. It wasn’t until he was fully inside of her, whole body pressing down into hers, close as could be, that she breathed a sigh of belief.

Everything else faded away for a while, as each thrust left her shaking, feeling the coiling tension of pleasure building within her.

They rolled over so that she ended up above him, kissing frantically as she ground down into him, revelling in the way this felt. 

“Kathryn,” he repeated, “So good. I’ve wanted… needed… you so much.”

“I’m here now,” she whispered, rocking with a growing abandon, “We’re here now.”

His hands were everywhere, but so were hers. Together they slowly sat up, torsos pressed together as she wrapped her legs further around him, both of them moaning as they got just that little bit closer.

“Chakotay,” she murmured, hands gripping his shoulders as she leaned back just a little further to let him claim one of her breasts again with this mouth, staring into her eyes as she squeezed tightly around him.

“I love you, Kathryn. Being with you is… everything I believed it would be.”

She drew his head back to hers, holding it with both hands a she kissed him thoroughly, pressing him back against the bed, feeling him meet every movement of her hips with his own.

She wasn’t sure who started first, whether the feeling of her tightening around him sent Chakotay or the edge or if it was first flood of his orgasm that started her spasming. Either way they came together and as she laid there, head buried against Chakotay’s chest, Kathryn felt relaxed in a way she had forgotten was possible.

“It’s hard to believe it took us that long to reach such a simple solution,” kissing his forehead and jaw.

“I’m just glad you finally decided to try,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into her hair.

It felt so good, so right. It lasted for less than ten minutes and then the alarm bells started ringing within her, making her jump away like someone had doused her in ice water.

“Kathryn?” Chakotay looked genuinely concerned, reaching a hand out to gently caress her back as she sat turned away from him towards the edge of the bed. 

“I…” she hesitated, trying to calm her racing heart, to will away the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, to find the words to explain the lump in the back of her throat.

“Is something wrong?”

How to explain? She’s thought. She’d thought being together would make everything better, would soothe the cruel voices whispering in her mind.

Now it was worse. Oh it was so much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I updated this, but I finally did so hopefully this fic will start flowing again and I can update it more regularly now. *fingers crossed* This fix is far from fixed.

**Author's Note:**

> This appears to have become a chaptered fic. Oooops.


End file.
